


Cuddles

by CheshireCaine



Category: Bleach
Genre: Boss-Subordinate relationship, Cute Ending, Drunk Cuddles, Drunk and Sleepy Cuddles, Emotional Baggage, Fluff and Angst, Love Redeems, M/M, Pining, Sleepy Cuddles, Surprise Ending, Teasing, the wholesome ShinAi fic we were all waiting for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 18:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCaine/pseuds/CheshireCaine
Summary: No. No, that was dangerous territory. He can’t risk it. He's worked so hard to make it here—he cannotabandon his plans now. But, strike him down with his own zanpakutō, he wants tostay like this.Stayhere.Frozen in this moment. WithShinji.Love creates hate. Ends violence. That's how the adage goes? Nothing upsetting about that, right?





	Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> wrote draft uno at the beginning of september, rewrote though october, finished the ending at dawn of november, did some more tense changing entering december, and now i'm remembering i'm chaos god of not giving a fuck. enjoy, some wholesome shinai, readers.
> 
>  
> 
> _dedicated to the friends whose praise eventually pushed me to just post_

_Oh no._

An epiphany taps on Sōsuke’s skull at an _inopportune_ time. It interrupts him while he’s tracing his fingers through his captain’s hair. Stroking the man’s tresses as he rests his head on Aizen’s lap.

Sōsuke knows he’s fairly drunk. But Shinji monopolises his attention, having strode into the fifth division barracks with a goal of claiming the most sake. His success was why he was verging on comatose with his head dropped into Sōsuke’s lap.

Sōsuke has a feeling that when Shinji wakes up in the morning, it will be with a splitting migraine. But until then, everything’s fine. Sōsuke can pet him and tangle the fingers of his other hand atop his head. He can _give in_ to his urge to trace the long hair down Shinji’s back.

It’s deluding. Distracting. Perching on the floor of the captain’s office, facing the open door to the gardens. Starlight shining onto the floorboards and edging past their faces. A slight breeze trickling through to bat at blonde strands—It’s too much.

It has to be. Because a dangerous idea is rippling through Sōsuke’s mind. The kind that needs squashing into wet pulp between both hands before it bites. He can see himself speared through the neck from behind. He’d lie prone, growing colder and choking bubbles of blood onto his lips and regretting that he even _entertained_ the thought.

He is not going to think about it. No. He continues tracing his fingers into Shinji’s scalp and pressing through those soft, straw locks into a warm back.

_But wouldn't it be nice._

No. No, that was dangerous territory. He can’t risk it. He's worked so hard to make it here—he can _not_ abandon his plans now. But, strike him down with his own zanpakutō, he wants to _stay like this_.

Stay _here_. Frozen in this moment. With _Shinji_.

This could be lovely. And he'd be so happy, together with Shinj—

Aah. And that was the crux of the problem, wasn't it?

Even if he could trust Tōsen not to turn around and choose betrayal over loyalty to a man who would throw away his justice and ambition over a _moment_. And even if he could engineer events so Gin wouldn't turn right around and stab him as well, just to be sure (that it _hurt_ ). This man—this glorious man—well, there was no way Shinji would ever trust him.

It was true that he'd never deserved it, but if he changed here, would that– could that be enough?

Aizen was filled with longing. For a future he knew he'd never have. With this man beside him and countless hours and days of lulling in serenity and each other's company.

He _wanted_. He wanted this and him so badly, like nothing he'd wanted before. He'd put off his ambitions for the crown for a millennium if needs be.

He looked down at Shinji’s relaxed face—lax in sleep the way he never was in the daylight under Aizen’s sight. (He knew this for sure, he'd seen him lose the tension around friends then coil up like a terrified snake when Sōsuke so much as arrived within a mile radius).

A millennium was too short. He knew he'd put off his plans indefinitely if that's what it took. His mind whirred and rumbled as he began to think, loose strands of plans teased to wrap around each other in delicate webs.

Two fingers tapped on his forehead and he blinked; startled from his own head.

Shinji's eyes were still droopy but they looked as animated and piercing as ever.

The back of his knuckles brushed back a couple locks of Sōsuke’ hair from flapping over his face, rescuing the trapped hairs below his glasses. He decided to tug at Sōsuke’s glasses, who let him pluck them off his face without any hesitation besides carefully folding them up and placing them upon his own lap.

His half-sleepy smile smouldered through Sōsuke’s shoulders and chest. He swore that he could feel the red stretch across his skin.

Shinji smiled, too late Sōsuke realised that he was pinned to this place by his own _want_. There was no chance of him letting this go. He'd figure out a new way to support the Rukongai and he was long past being enmeshed with C46; he could just tear it down himself if he had to.

He, he couldn’t stop _thinking_. About a way to extract himself from the trap of his own making. About a more peaceful tomorrow. About how much he’d be _giving up_ when he could fix _everything_ –

Shinji giggled, and a hiccup bubbled out of his throat. He tried to jab Sōsuke in the forehead but missed and ended up curling his fingers around his cheek. His thumb caught in the dent of his cheekbone and he stroked along like he was wiping away a tear.  
  
The gentle gesture and maybe the sake and cover of darkness made it feel like he really had been prodded in the eyes. They were itching.  
  
He sniffed. Oh, he was crying. The tears etched across his cheeks. He tried to cover the sight, but all he could do was hold his hand over his mouth as the hiccups ripped from his throat, swelling into wet sobs.  
  
Shinji tugged Sōsuke’s hand away and stared into his wet eyes with the same solemn sureness as when the space filled by sake was bathed instead in paranoia and cold, callously intense attention. He tipped Sōsuke’s hand, showing off the wetness to shine in the moonlight. Then his eyes returned to Sōsuke’s, and he pressed the hand to his mouth, expression entirely serious as he kissed away the tears. He flicked away some of the water on his cheeks with his other hand, using the other to hold Sōsuke’s hand to his chest.  
  
Oh, he _loved_ this man. With all his being. With all that was his to give and love and possess and want to _have_.  
  
He reciprocated Shinji’s attention, fingers twitching as he slowly curled around Shinji’s own hand in turn. Shinji squeezed his hand in a gentle throb. Sōsuke returned some of the pressure.

Even as his mind cleared, his complete and utter devotion to this _stupid man_ , who didn’t and could never deserve all that Sōsuke was offering . . . because nobody could deserve this much, not even this utterly, _utterly beautiful man_ could expect this privilege, except he’d received it anyway without even wanting or knowing.

Shinji brought Sōsuke’s hand to his mouth again, and held it there as he rolled over to tuck himself into Sōsuke more thoroughly.  
  
Maybe he did want some of Sōsuke. In return. In return for some of himself, that he’d lost to Sōsuke already. It was only a few more hours till dawn anyway. And Sōsuke intended to treasure every moment. He would weather any storm for this man. And any daylight storm could do nothing to undo the happiness of this moment. For the first time in his memory, slight breeze crawling in through the door and thin line of moonlight coating his smile and the gold in his lap, Sōsuke Aizen felt at _peace_.  
  
_Even more so when his cranky captain rose in the morning complaining of creaking joints and distractedly accepted a cushion for his chair and Sōsuke’s favourite blend of spiced black tea. Sōsuke had already shuffled his paperwork onto the desk and was out of the door, before being called back in; confused. And sent to sleep on the sofa, because ‘Ya’re making me tired just_ looking _at’cha. The rest of the division can keep for a few hours without you.’ Shock. ‘Take the morning off, unless ya’re planning to usurp me as captain today.’ ‘Never, captain.’ with a knowing smile. A squint and a sip at the tea. ‘This is good.’ Pride, and more joy than he would know. ‘Go to sleep, Sōsuke. Can’t have my second about to collapse.’ Did he just? His name? “Second”? His_ name _? Heat flooding his cheeks. A curious eyebrow raised. Stuttering. A smirk. Rushing onto the sofa and burying his face into the seatback and a cushion. A more genuine smile and gulping at the tea._ Peace.

**Author's Note:**

> but really i spent months passing this fic around to friends, and it was only me that was complaining so #yolo and always remember to keep moving forward. inertia doesn't help when you're already stationary lol
> 
> A standalone, but my original idea for this was more Crack Taken Seriously and less Angst, so in theory I'll write v1.0 someday ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
